Chuck vs the LONG BREAK
by Arathorn73
Summary: This will be a series of unrelated drabbles. They’re little mini-ideas that would make fun commercials or webisodes to keep the Chuck spirit alive, while we wait for the show to come back. They’ll all be appropriate for showing on primetime TV.
1. Exercise Partners

The scene opens with a pan shot across a work-out room. In one corner, mats are stacked. A universal lifting machine and a number of free weights dominate the first wall.

The camera shows Chuck Bartowski, in a pair of knee-length grey shorts and an old Stanford t-shirt. His hair is matted to his head and dark stains are visible around his neck and armpits. Wearing dark socks and his trademark Chucks, he has the look of a man at the end of a long work-out. His chest moves visibly with each breath. Spreading his legs a bit wider than shoulder-width, he bends down in a stretch, but he keeps his head up, his eyes intent.

Continuing its pan, the camera shows what he is watching, or, more accurately, who he is watching. Sarah Walker is also in the room, dressed in tights and a spandex leotard that fits just right. Her back is to Chuck and she is executing a perfect straddle stretch. With her hair pulled back in a ponytail, she looks ready for anything. She's wearing no make-up but appears to be fresh and relaxed.

The camera zooms out to show the two of them as the only ones in the reasonably small room. They hold their stretch for a moment longer before they both straighten.

Chuck gasps out a few words. "I … think … I'm doing … OK with this." He smiles hopefully.

Sarah looks at him in disbelief. Amazement, humor, and a hint of disgust war on her face. "Chuck, we haven't even started yet." His face falls as she continues, "This is just warm-up."

The shot starts on the same place it faded from, but both people are gone. Weights are audible in the background, as are Sarah's words of encouragement. "Just a few more, Chuck. You can do it."

The camera shoots tightly to show 150 pounds moving smoothly up and down, a gentle powerful rhythm. The sound of Chuck's labored breathing becomes audible, matching the timing of the weights.

"Keep it up, Chuck." Sarah's voice is calm and unconcerned, as the camera zooms out to show her bench-pressing 150 easily.

Chuck is doing lat pulls and pauses to complain. "Can't you make it lighter?"

"Sorry, Chuck. It doesn't go under 10 pounds." He moans.

Sarah stands and goes over to him. "We've got to get you into shape if you're going to be an agent. You chose this, you know."

Chuck stands, wincing in pain. He collapses into Sarah, who catches him. She turns to face the camera. "Don't worry. We'll have in shape by the premiere. Monday, March 1st, 8:00 Eastern. Be there."

Chuck also faces the camera. "March can't get here soon enough." Then he collapses across Sarah's chest as she supports his full weight.


	2. It's complicated!

The scene starts with a view of an anonymous restaurant, seen from the outside. The camera zooms in and jumps inside. Chuck and Sarah are seated at a table for two, with a smattering of other patrons in the restaurant. The theme appears to be Oriental, with rice drawings in the background. Sarah is wearing a casual powder-blue, short-sleeve blouse. Chuck is wearing a long-sleeve dark button-up shirt. Each is looking at a menu.

Chuck puts down his menu first. He then looks at his watch and tilts his head, staring up into the air. Still lost in thought, he starts ticking off things on his fingers.

Sarah, who has been watching intently after the first couple milliseconds, finally asks. "Chuck, what are you doing?"

"Trying to figure out the status of our relationship right now."

"Well, it's Friday," Sarah starts them off.

"Yeah, and after 5:00 p.m."

"The month doesn't contain an 'l'". Sarah has pulled out a small notebook and is flipping through it.

"Still two overlapping sports seasons," Chuck adds, while he starts unfolding a large flowchart across the table.

"Days are increasing in length, not decreasing."

"You're wearing blue."

"Oh, and Bryce is supposedly dead again." Sarah throws a massive book on the table as she says this, and they both start poring over it.

"No new guest stars."

"You're unemployed."

"We haven't ordered dinner yet." As he says this, the camera cuts to Chuck, standing in front of a HUGE rack of servers, all of which are blinking madly.

"Casey isn't visible." The phrases are coming fast and furious now, almost on top of each other.

"Odd day of the month."

"Even-numbered month."

"Odd year."

"Fluorescent lights." The two are slowly being buried in paper, which is raining down from the ceiling.

"Tile floor."

"Sitting North-South."

"ENOUGH!" Chuck finally shouts. "This is more complicated than Dragon Poker."

Sarah looks at him curiously. "More complicated than what?"

"Dragon Poker. You know, from the M.Y.T.H. series, with Skeeve and …." He trails off as Sarah somberly shakes her head, holding in a smile.

They stare at each other for a moment, the camera cutting between close-ups of their faces. An occasional stray piece of paper still falls around them. Chuck breaks the silence. "You know what? Forget about it. Let's just enjoy the meal."

"I'd like that." Sarah smiles her special Chuck smile and receives his million-watt smile in return. The camera pulls back to show the restaurant scene just like it started and continues to pull back outside, in a reverse of its initial path.


	3. Just Shoot Me

The scene opens on a small room, where Casey and Chuck stand facing each other on opposite ends of a small square table. Casey is wearing a button-up, short-sleeve black shirt and yellow sunglasses with no framing around the bottom. The lenses extend over the entire opening between the frames and his eye. Charles is wearing a bulky flak jacket, oversized goggles, and a nervous expression.

On the table is a selection of small guns – two custom SIG-Sauer P229s, a Smith & Wesson 5906, a Heckler & Koch USP, a Taurus PT92, and a FN Five-seveN. Casey picks up one of the SIGs and says "This is what real men shoot." Gesturing to the next gun, he says, "Pick whatever gun you want. Unless you'd rather practice with a tranq gun."

Chuck picks up the Smith & Wesson 5906. "I'll use this one." His voice cracks the slightest bit, but he is serious about his intentions. Gritting his teeth, he continues, "It's the one Fox Mulder used on _X-Files_."

Casey shakes his head and snorts. "It's also the one Walker uses. Real manly choice there, Chuck." He leads Chuck through a door into what is obviously a shooting range, with only three alleys.

Once inside, Casey points to the man-shaped targets at the end of each alley. "The goal is to hit them in the head or the chest, in the middle of the red area."

"I've seen targets before." Chuck lines up his shot and fires at the target, but the gun flies up and backwards. Chuck howls in pain.

Casey's voice is tight and controlled. Each word is clipped and punctuated by a shot down the range. "These aren't video game controllers, Chuck. They have real kick." His magazine empty, Casey hits the button to bring his target into view. Fives holes are clustered around the chest and five around the head, each set in a pretty tight pattern.

Chuck recovers himself and looks grimly down the range. He takes careful aim and squeezes off another shot, the gun again kicking in his hand. He empties his clip more slowly than Casey but his control improves with each shot.

After he empties his smaller magazine, Chuck looks to the wall to reel in his target, too, but his wall is empty. Casey, who has been watching the entire process with great amusement, presses another button on his control panel and Chuck's target comes into view. Only 4 holes are visible, none particularly near the center of either target area. Casey smirks.

The screen blinks and Chuck looks tired and sweaty, while Casey looks the same. "Two hours later" appears across the bottom of the screen.

Casey turns and looks at Chuck. "Last round, Bartowski. Loser has to buy the winner a drink."

"That's not fair. You get 10 shots and I only get 6."

"Fine. I'll only shoot 6."

Close-ups of each man firing ensue, with both Chuck and Casey concentrating very hard on making their shots. Chuck's aim has become significantly better, and the gun barely wavers in his hands as he takes his shots. Casey scowls frequently during his shots and is obviously focusing all his considerable skill.

The camera cuts to a view down both shooting alleys, as the targets begin moving closer – the only sound is the soft whirring of a motor. Casey's, on the left, has two holes, one directly in the middle of the chest and one directly in the middle of the head. Chuck's target has five – three near the head and two relatively near the chest.

"I won!" Chuck cheers. "You have to buy me a drink."

"Fine. Whatever. Let's just go." Casey's voice is gruff, but the smallest hint of pleasure shines through.

The camera remains focused on the approaching targets. The sound of a door closing is the final sound, other than the soft whir of the motors inexorably pulling the targets closer. As Casey's target nears the camera, each single hole resolves into the distinct outline of three overlapping circles.

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_Yes, I realize that bullets don't make nice circles in targets. It's my story; deal with it._ :P _Reviews still appreciated. _


	4. Piratey Training

The camera pans across a wall filled with various sorts of low-tech weapons – knives, swords, billy clubs, brass knuckles, quarterstaffs, and the like. The bottom of the screen shows the words "September 19". The view moves across the room to where Chuck stands on a large mat, dressed in grey baggy sweats and looking nervous. The clock over his head shows 1:05.

Suddenly, Chuck looks up to the sound of a door opening. Through it comes a pirate, looking down so that the face is invisible, covered by a large tri-fold hat. A long dark cloak obscures the figure, who walks with a noticeable limp. A stuffed parrot sits on the pirate's right shoulder. No right hand is visible, merely a silvery hook. A curved blade is held casually in the left hand.

"Arrrr…" comes the distinctly feminine voice only partially obscured by a growling accent. "What landlubber be ye?"

Chuck gasps in surprise. "Sarah?"

Sure enough, as the figure looks up, Sarah's characteristic smile is clearly evident, though grime obscures much of her face. Her hair is dirty and sticks out from the hat at odd angles. A patch completely hides one eye, but the other is glinting with unrestrained mischief.

"What … what are you doing?"

"Doncha mean 'whatcha doin, matey'?" Her voice continues to rasp out. "Don't be tellin' me ye be ignorant what day 'tis!"

"Arrrr! No!" Chuck's pleased smile makes it hard for him to imitate the sea dog sound. "I be awares 'tis International Talk Like a Pirate day. But I had no idea ye'd be so larn-ed."

"I thought 'twould give our day some spice, ya know?" Sarah's laughter makes it hard to maintain her accent, but she does better than Chuck. "Ye be learnin' fisticuffs and improvised weapons today."

"Arrr! But what be me motivation? Why I be a-fightin' ya?"

Sarah shrugs off the cloak to reveal a low-cut, laced white bodice that clings tightly to her waist and leaves her arms bare. She wears baggy pantaloons and her feet are bare. She tosses the cloak to Chuck, who quickly puts it on and dons a second hat secreted in one of its many pockets.

While they change, Sarah speaks. "I be thinkin' I could be a damsel ye wish to capture. Ye could be a pirate cap'n who be lookin' fer booty."

Chuck grins and pulls down a scimitar from the wall. "Avast then!" A quick flurry of blows leads to Chuck's weapon being pushed way out of position.

A quick feint at Chuck's ankles is accompanied by "Mebbe I should cut off yer ankle and give ya a peg leg. That'll learn you ta fight."

The camera zooms in to Chuck's eyes and a silhouette of two fencing figures accompanies a Matrix-like series of digits raining down from the top of the screen – a flash.

With a cocky grin, Chuck shifts his weapon from his right hand to his left. With eyebrows raised, Sarah asks, "What be ye doin'? Yar not bein' left-hended."

"Ah…but I know something you do not know." With that, they begin exchanging blows again. After a moment, Chuck's blade flashes and the laces tying together Sarah's shirt come unknotted, cut by his swing.

"Yee-aarrggghh!" She yells and drops the hook to shift her blade to her right hand. "I be not left-handed, either." Swinging her blade dangerously, she reengages her opponent.

"Wench," he speaks through a grin, "ye be in big trouble. Aye! I'll have ye for me own."

As the fight progresses, Sarah's bodice loosens and opens slightly. Thus, Chuck is slightly distracted by the view and Sarah has a chance. "What will ye do if ye capture me?" she asks.

"Have me with ye." Chuck seems to be joking, but Sarah's eyes widen in surprise and anticipation. The fight intensifies in speed. Sarah almost lands a blow, when Chuck's eyes were elsewhere, but he parries and twists the sword out of her hand.

"Yield!" he says.

"Happily." They lean in for a kiss and Chuck's hand starts straying to where his eyes had strayed earlier.

Suddenly, Sarah's arm flings out and a knife flashes through the air. It embeds itself in the lens of the camera and the screen goes dark.

A low moan fills the room before "That not be in the training manual."

"Complaining?"

"Not at all."

_Arr! Did ye like me story? Throw me a note in a bottle and let me know._


End file.
